


Make Me Wanna Play

by Flightless_Bird



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Flirting, Fluff, Getting Together, Implied Violence, Jealousy, Language, Love Confessions, M/M, Might be slightly OOC, PTSD, Pet Names, Random criminal parties?, Slight Hurt/Comfort, because why not?, criminals in love, i don’t know how being a criminal works, jim is a flirty little shit, of sorts, references the great game, seb deducing jim, sebastian gets jealous and admits too much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-24 17:52:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14360562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flightless_Bird/pseuds/Flightless_Bird
Summary: “You haven’t stopped trying to get his attention in the—however many goddamn years I’ve worked for you now, and you sure as hell were doing it long before that too. Showing up in pools, with the stupid dramatic lighting, and the suits and shit, looking as best as possible for him.”The corner of Moriarty’s mouth edged up toward a sly smile. “You think I look as ‘best as possible’ in my suits?”Sebastian gave him a withering look. “You’re an idiot.”





	Make Me Wanna Play

**Author's Note:**

> I scribbled this down at the speed of light lol XD  
> But it was a lot of fun to play with so I hope you guys enjoy :3 Let me know what you thought, if you liked it! Thanks for reading!

Sebastian was stiff, he was tired, and he was pissed off.

Being bundled into a car with no time to put away his rifle and seated across from his irritatingly cheery boss was not how he had pictured this night ending. He had pictured a lot more blood, a lot less talking, and Sherlock Holmes’ body dead on the floor of the pool. Instead, he got this:

“So entertaining, isn’t he?” Jim practically giggled, shifting in his seat to pocket his phone. “All it takes are a few guns pointed at his beloved little pet and he crumbles. But in the best way, really. He almost gets even better, does the most unpredictable things.”

Sebastian sighed, adjusting his rifle across his lap. “Yeah, whatever,” he huffed. He knew full well that Moriarty wasn’t actually listening to him anyway. He still had that high from the game and it would be a bit before he came back down to Earth. In the meantime, Sebastian had time to fume on the ride home and try not to stick his boots on top of Moriarty’s polished shoes in the cramped car.

“I wonder what I should try for our next little date.” Moriarty let a playful lilt enter his voice at the last word, leaning an elbow against the ledge of the car door handle. His fingers smoothed down his tie thoughtfully. Sometimes, he changed in the car on the way back from a crime scene, shedding the jacket and tie, maybe rolling his sleeves up or loosening his collar. Sebastian guiltily admitted to himself that the’d been hoping that that might happen again tonight; that he’d get to glimpse the softer, casual side of his employer.

But it didn’t. He wasn’t sure if he should be pleased or not by the sight of Moriarty still dressed like suit-and-tie sin, too delighted by the night’s events to care.

“Could try to get Adler involved,” Moriarty went on. “But I’d wanted to save her for a little later. I could threaten that Dr. Watson again, just for fun.” His lips tugged up at one side. “I do like to watch Holmes struggle pathetically with his mind and his heart.”

I’d love to watch him struggle with my bullet in his heart, Sebastian thought bitterly. He straightened in his seat and cleared his throat. “So were you really gonna kill him then?” he asked hopefully. “When you changed your mind and came back for Holmes and his bomb?”

His shoulders fell a bit when Moriarty just replied with a careless laugh. “Oh, I couldn’t end it there, ‘bastian. We have _so_ many more games to play, Sherly and I. I would have put a bullet in Watson’s head and shot that gun out of Sherlock’s hand, if that call from the Adler girl hadn’t come.”

And with that, he dissolved into another round of bloodthirsty plotting.

Sebastian slumped in his seat and fingered the trigger of his gun. Part of him wished he could shoot Sherlock Holmes right in his “perfect” brain.

Another part wanted to shoot his boss in the leg to shut him up.

**-x-x-x-**

 

Sebastian was actually going to murder him.

“—knew that if I waited him out, the old Iceman would break. It did take him an annoying amount of time though.” Moriarty rolled his shoulders with a slight grimace, most likely feeling an old bruise. It hadn’t been very long since his time with the eldest Holmes sibling and eventual escape. The escape that his sniper had helped carry out. Not that he’d noticed.

“Yeah, I remember you telling me all about the ‘fun’ you had while you were in there,” Sebastian replied sarcastically. He stepped a pace or two ahead of Moriarty to hold a door open for him.

“And what fun it was,” Moriarty grinned devilishly. “His henchmen hit harder than I thought. But the little bird sang in the end,” he added in a higher, singing tone, fluttering his fingers in the air. “Told me more than I thought he would too. The next game’s going to be a good one.”

Sebastian let him slip past him out the door and trailed after him. “I don't doubt it,” he muttered.

Emerging from the narrow corridor, they came to a grand entry hall. Well, simple in decor, but grand in size; coffee-hued walls arcing up to a high ceiling and golden chandelier, one of the only decorations of the room itself. The cyber criminal who had hosted their meeting certainly seemed to favor this little palace. An unassuming building on the outside, classy and streamlined within. The couple of places that Sebastian had lived in with Moriarty throughout his career had been similar in that way. They were funny things, these crime lord types. All favoring a level of secrecy, yet unable to resist what their money could offer.

Oh my god, he was still _talking about that damned detective_.

“Really, I’m surprised, you know, at how much old Mycroft gave me when he stepped into the room. I’m not even sure he realizes just how much I got from him about his darling little brother.” Moriarty flashed Sebastian a mad grin over his shoulder, eyebrows raised. “I think I scared the hell out of him,” he added gleefully, “with the whole scratching Sherlock’s name into the walls ordeal.”

“Yeah, that looked painful and tedious,” Sebastian deadpanned. “For someone who doesn’t wanna do any of his own dirty work. And for someone who wants to kill Sherlock.”

“Oh, it was all theatrical,” Moriarty brushed him off. “All the drama, it’s all for Holmes. It’s such fun to see him squirm.”

Sebastian had apparently reached his limit. Because the next thing he knew, he was striding past Moriarty to halt dead in his tracks and force the criminal to stop. Facing him, he practically shot bullets through Moriarty’s face from burning blue eyes. “All right, I’m sick of this shit,” he snapped.

Moriarty’s brows flicked up, a look of delighted surprise on his face. Of course he’d love to see his tiger bite a little. Of fucking course.

It only made Sebastian angrier. “You’re a damn liar,” he went on, stabbing a finger at Moriarty, shoulders stiff under his suit jacket. “You say you want Sherlock Holmes dead, but the next day, I have to listen to you recite fucking poetry about how brilliant he is. You haven’t stopped trying to get his attention in the—however many goddamn years I’ve worked for you now, and you sure as hell were doing it long before that too. Showing up in pools, with the stupid dramatic lighting, and the suits and shit, looking as best as possible for him.”

The corner of Moriarty’s mouth edged up toward a sly smile. “You think I look as ‘best as possible’ in my suits?”

Sebastian gave him a withering look. “You’re an idiot,” he stated. Evidently foolish anger made him suicidal.

But Moriarty just took it all with the worst amused grin on his face and in that fucking navy suit, and god, Sebastian had never wanted to punch him or kiss him more.

“So you think I have an obsession?” Moriarty asked, crooning teasingly. “Think I fancy Mr. Sherlock Holmes?”

“ _Yes_! The purpose of your entire fucking empire is to piss him off!” Sebastian spread his hands in outrage.

“And why do you care?” Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Moriarty folded his hands over each other. “Why the hell do you think you have the _right_ to care?” His voice drifted down to a lower tone, the one that silenced rooms and reminded Sebastian of the deep of the jungle at night. “You’re just a sniper.”

Sebastian glared at him lividly. “You know what? You’re right. I am just your sniper. Replaceable, right?” He gave a sour smile. “So I quit.” He threw the words back at Moriarty as he turned on a heel, already heading for the front doors. If Moriarty wanted to be a lovesick fool for Sherlock Holmes, fine. It was about time Sebastian was done being a lovesick fool for him. His chest ached as he walked away, but he shoved the feeling down, far down somewhere deep inside.

The words stopped him.

“You’re more stupid than I realized if you think you’ve figured out the feelings of the most untouchable criminal in one night.” 

Sebastian paused, blowing out a measured breath. “Yeah, you’re untouchable,” he echoed hollowly. “But you make an exception for the most untouchable detect—”

“For a certain blind tiger of mine.”

Sebastian’s heart betrayed him, skipping over a beat. He glanced back over his shoulder, to see Moriarty grinning knowingly. “Who is behaving very much like a fool right now,” he went on.

Sebastian could only stare as Moriarty ventured closer, slow and seemingly uncaring. For a moment, he couldn’t form words. “You’re lying,” he managed. “You set up all of these puzzles for him, you were tortured for him. You—”

“Christ, I didn’t know you were _that_ dense.” Moriarty continued past him toward the doors as if fully expecting Sebastian to follow, as usual, to the car. Pathetically, Sebastian did. “Do you remember when I called you to help me break out of the Iceman’s torture chamber? Did you notice that none of my other, older professionals were there?” Moriarty’s eyes had changed, no longer that impenetrable darkness that spoke of his mad intelligence. This was something lighter, softer, catching the dim lighting and turning fawn-brown. That telling gaze fixed on Sebastian and the sniper nearly lost his breath. “You’re the only one I trust, completely, with my life,” Moriarty murmured.

They’d reached the doors and stopped beside them. Sebastian opened his mouth to argue, but Moriarty continued, “you’re the one who treated the wounds too. The one I _get_ wounds for, doing my own dirty work with you just to watch you kill for me.” Something a little like pain tangled his voice then. “You infuriate me with how pitiful you’ve made me behave. The one I can’t help but call by pathetic pet names, who I think of when I dress in my best suits before a meeting, who I take with me _to_ the meeting. The person whose rooms I built the most security around and share my own living space with. I’ve killed five men, you know.” He snuck a quick glance at Sebastian and the sniper could see the self-anger and longing warring there. “There were several incidents in which they unknowingly set off your post-traumatic stress disorder. I had them buried almost immediately after.”

If Sebastian had been lost for words before, it was nothing compared to now. Never had he seen emotion in this capacity from his employer. His heart clenched with constricting, awful hope. “Why so much Sherlock then?” he had to ask.

Moriarty shrugged, eyes darting down to his shoes briefly. “He’s the only one smart enough to give me a game.” Then he met Sebastian’s gaze again and the side of his mouth quirked up. “But you’re the only one that makes me wanna play.”

Sebastian was helpless in his longing then, in how quickly it all came rushing back. He wanted to say something, but he didn’t know what. He doubted that he could just risk his own life by hauling Moriarty into a kiss right then. He might have just confessed in a way, but he was still a madman with a short fuse. Sebastian’s lips parted uncertainly as Moriarty finally pulled open one of the double doors and let in a wash of night chill. “Moriarty…”

Moriarty spared him a sideways glance as he stepped over the threshold. “Jim,” he corrected, and the softness in his voice was unlike anything.

Fuck it.

Moriarty made it two steps outside before Sebastian planted a hand on his chest and forced him backward. He didn’t even have time to speak, as Sebastian shoved him up against the door and pressed their mouths together.

Moriarty— _Jim_ —tasted of the expensive wine they’d been served and something else beneath, something sweeter. Surprisingly, he hadn’t draw his gun yet. He kissed Sebastian back, hands at the back of his neck to pull him closer. Sebastian’s skin felt like it was suddenly on fire. He raked his hands through Jim’s hair, down his chest, undid the front of his suit to slip his hands under the jacket. His palms pressed into the small of Jim’s back, and Jim hummed against his lips. Sebastian wanted to mess him up so badly, see that perfect image ruined and know that it was because of him. He felt thumbs sliding over his cheekbones and Jim’s tongue tracing his lower lip. Then Jim bit down on it and Sebastian jerked back with a yelp.

“Ow! What the fuck?”

“Think twice before you pull a stunt like that again,” Jim warned. “You’re lucky I didn’t shoot you.” Then a hint of amusement glimmered in his eyes and he slid his fingers through the blonde hair at the back of Sebastian’s neck. His eyelids slid lower until he was looking at Sebastian with a certain lazy wanting that had Sebastian’s blood singing. “I’ve been waiting for almost a year for you to pin me up against a wall,” he admitted.

“Yeah?” Sebastian grinned wolfishly, drunk with the fact that Jim Moriarty had been wanting to kiss him for a year.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Jim growled. “It was nothing but attraction at first, hardly worth my time.”

Sebastian’s eyebrows rose. “‘At first?’”

“Shut your mouth.”

“You saying it’s more now?”

“You’re getting dangerously close to being shot, you know that, Moran?”

“Sebastian.” Sebastian smiled teasingly. Then he leaned their foreheads together, delighted when Jim didn’t pull away, when he shifted his weight more into Sebastian’s body. “You saying you’re in love with me, Jim Moriarty?” he asked in a murmur.

Jim smirked crookedly. “You wish.”

“You’re leaning into me,” Sebastian pointed out. The smirk faltered on Jim’s face. “Not the first time you’ve opened up your body language to me. And your pupils are dilated.” He brought up one hand to trace a thumb up the side of Jim’s neck. “You get goosebumps where I touch you,” he whispered. His thumb wandered higher, resting in the space beneath Jim’s jaw. He felt Jim’s breath hitch, electrified. “And your pulse is racing.”

His hand slipped up to Jim’s cheek and the criminal tilted into his palm with a slight sigh. “Are you _deducing_ me, ‘bastian?” he asked huskily.

“I learned from the best.” Sebastian sobered then, watching the way the moonlight silvered Jim’s hair. God, he was beautiful, like a polished rifle or a snarling wolf. “So am I right then?” he asked softly.

Jim studied him for a long moment. Then his hand brushed Sebastian’s from his cheek and he leaned in to place his lips just shy of Sebastian’s ear. “You’re the one doing the observing,” he whispered. “You tell me.” His breath ghosted across Sebastian’s skin and Sebastian shivered. He heard Jim chuckle. Jim pulled away, dodging Sebastian’s attempt to kiss him again with a laugh. “Ah ah ah,” he sang cheekily. He slipped from Sebastian’s embrace and buttoned his suit jacket again. “I told you not to try that again, if you wanna keep your job, that is.”

“You’re threatening me for kissing you?” Sebastian laughed, trailing after Jim as he descended the front steps of the building to the gravel drive below.

“ _Duh_ ,” Jim drawled. He smoothed back his kiss-mussed hair. There was a tiny bounce in his step, a hint of lightness to him that Sebastian couldn’t miss. “Can’t have you running around, thinking you can take what you want whenever you like.”

“Please,” Sebastian scoffed. He caught up to Jim and bent to speak from directly behind him. “You liked it. You’ve been waiting for _almost a year._ ”

He almost choked when Jim reached back, quick as a blink, and yanked Sebastian's head down by his tie. Sebastian was tall enough that the movement had his chin over Jim’s shoulder, Jim’s head turned to talk into his ear. “ _Easy_ , Tiger,” he purred, and Sebastian’s chest lit up with pleased tingles. “Better watch your step or I’ll break up with you.”

Of all the things to do, Sebastian blushed. “Wait, so does that mean—?”

“ _Yes_ , you idiot.”


End file.
